DISCLAIMER: Nope. Still don't own anything
There was the fact that there were sheaves of parchments strewn across his desk. Some were of the utmost important state secrets. Some were simple building plans needing his approval. Some were letters from distant kings with ambitions to have their daughters on Camelot's throne.
Then there was the thing about his father wanting him to attend tonight's banquet. A visiting Countess who had taken a shine to him was leaving tomorrow. Her allegiance would be most valuable as she was bordered with Mercia. No. It wouldn't do them any good to be in her bad books. She liked to stroke his arms gently, her touch like a spider's kiss. Up close, her face was riddled with marks of her age. But it had to be tolerated. Her bad books are not somewhere he'd sit comfortably in.
The stables need mucking out. His armour needs cleaning. The various unworn jackets need to be arranged and colour coded- again. The boots need shining. The torn jerkin needs darning. The sheets need changing. And it's raining outside. The knights must be looking for him now. He'd missed the third watch patrols.
But what does it matter? When Merlin smiled his crooked grinning wide smile and his eyes widened impossibly bigger, there was really only one thing that Arthur wanted. So reality can wait outside the door till he was satisfied.